All In A Day's Work
by legolasgirl
Summary: When a case hits close to home, Flack and the team must rush to keep one of NYPD’s own from being killed. FlackOC, possible DL & MS. Spoilers through the end of Season 2. Chapter 8 up January 24.
1. October 8, 2006 Part I

All in a Day's Work

Shipping: FlackOC, possible DL & MS

Spoilers: Through the end of Season 2; later chapters may reference Season 3, but I'll be sure to let you know if they do.

Summary: When a case hits close to home, Flack and the team must rush to keep one of NYPD's own from being killed.

_Sunday, October 8, 2006_

It was early in the morning on a cool October day in New York City. It was twenty minutes to six and most of "the city that never sleeps" was still in bed. Despite the early hour, there were still plenty of people around. Bright yellow taxis roamed the streets, honking when weary civilians got in their way. In the fresh fish markets, fishermen set about displaying the catch of the day, while in diners across the city, waitresses started fresh pots of coffee for the hordes of people soon to emerge unto the streets. One NYPD detective was about to start a day unlike one he'd ever had before.

Donald Flack Jr. smiled at the waitress behind the counter as she handed him a fresh cup of coffee to go. Though not a bad cook, on days when he had to work the early shifts, he preferred to simply buy himself breakfast instead of trying to make something himself; today was one such day. Don had just opened to door to the diner to head out to his car when he felt his phone go off. He grimaced as he spilt hot coffee all over his hand in his haste to answer his ringing cell phone. None too gently setting his cup of coffee on the top of his squad car, he grabbed his cell phone from his coat pocket and flipped it open. The phone was a fancy gadget far superior to his previous phone, and had been a gift from Mac upon Don's release from the hospital.

"Flack," Don answered tersely as he open his car door. Scowling at the coffee on his hands he quickly set his cup in the cup holder and pulled out his memo book.

"We have two female bodies found dumped in a dumpster in an alley off of ­­­­West Broadway and Canal Street. Officers are on the scene and it's being secured. Would you like me to notify the Crime Lab?" said the police dispatcher.

"Yeah; I'm on my way. I'll be there in five minutes." Don replied before flipping the phone shut and starting the car. He took a quick drink of coffee and almost spewed it out as the scalding liquid burned his throat. Coughing to ease some of the pain he sighed. _Christ, what a way to start the day!_

Within ten minutes he'd arrived at the scene, parked, and spoken briefly to the two uniforms who had secured the scene. Two guys, both workers at the convenience store around the corner, had come into the alley to have a smoke and to take out the garbage. When they'd flipped the lid of the dumpster up, they'd found two bodies. Well, more precisely, they'd seen three legs, which they apparently assumed were female and had rushed to call the cops.

Pulling on a pair of gloves, Don walked over to the dumpster, which was a good fifty feet from the entrance of the alley to have look inside. Maybe he'd get lucky and find a purse or a wallet with an ID so he could begin making some calls. Looking inside, Don frowned. Two of the legs were sticking straight up, though they were only visible from mid-calves to the woman's feet. The other leg was visible from the mid thigh down, and the positioning made Don think the body was in a seated position. Knowing he'd have better luck searching for ID with the seated body, he cautiously moved the cardboard that hid the rest of the body.

The woman probably would have been beautiful if not for the cuts and bruises marring her face and the bloodstains covering her dress. The woman's arms were crossed over her abdomen, almost in a defensive position and held in her arms was a black purse. Don reached down to lift out the purse and had the scare of his life when her eyes, bright and green, suddenly opened.

"Holy shit!" Don yelled. Turning to face the alley entrance where, the uniforms were standing, Don called out, "Call an ambulance, we've got a live one!" Facing the girl once again, Don could hear the officers calling out on their radios for immediate medical assistance. Now that he had a live victim, his priority was to keep her that way. Don reached into the dumpster to pull her out but she shrank from his touch, terror obvious in her eyes. Don pulled out his badge and showed her.

"I'm a detective, I'm not gonna hurt you, I just wanna help. Is it okay if I pull you out?" Her relief was obvious as he identified himself and she nodded at his question. As he pulled her out, Don noticed the rips in her dress and the blood running down her thighs, and grimaced. She was a rape victim then. Don pulled off his coat and set it on the ground so she could sit on it, since her legs were obviously not strong enough to keep her standing.

"What hurts the most? Have you been shot or stabbed ma'am?" Don asked her as he kneeled next to her. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Panicked she began to grab her throat, trying to speak. "Okay, I understand, you can't talk. Do you at least remember who you are? Just nod if you do." She began to nod frantically then began to search around for something. Not knowing what she wanted, Don stood by helplessly. She was bleeding freely from several places, but the abundance of blood on her dress made it difficult to tell if she had any serious injuries. Her face was bruised and swollen so badly it looked lopsided. Her right eye was blackened and swollen shut and cuts and scrapes covered her face. What made Don truly wince was the white residue that was smeared on her cheek and chin. It was fairly obvious it was semen, and would possibly explain her inability to speak if she had been forced.

Don was taken off guard as she lunged at his belt. Momentarily frozen, he was stunned when she waved his own badge at him. She gestured at the badge, and then herself several times until Don realized, with dawning horror, what she meant. This woman, who had been beaten and raped, and left for dead, was a cop. She made another gesture, like she was carrying something. _Her purse!_ Don had left it in the dumpster in his haste to get her out. He quickly reached over into the dumpster and pulled out her purse. Rifling through it, he found her badge, and just under it, her wallet. The bag, he noted, was too light to be holding her weapon, and he wondered if her attacker had taken it. Don flipped the wallet open and then quickly flipped it shut. _Holy shit!_ Handing her purse to her, Don pulled out his phone and hit the speed dial. Two seconds later, Mac picked up.

"Taylor."

"Mac we have a serious problem, you need to get to the scene right now."

"Why, what's happened?"

"One of our victims is alive."

"That's good; maybe she can help us identify the perp."

"Mac, the victim is Detective Elizabeth Armstrong. She's been beaten and raped."

"I see. I'm calling everyone off of their cases; we need to find this guy immediately. Lindsay and I are almost there."

"Good, 'cause the ambulance just pulled up. I'm ridin' with her to the hospital."

"Keep me posted." Mac said before hanging up. Don swore as he put his phone away. He waved the paramedics over as he reached down to grab Elizabeth's hand. She gave him a watery and lopsided grimace, as the paramedics lifted her onto a gurney. They began to check her over as they rushed down the alley towards the ambulance.

"She's bleeding profusely from cuts on her thighs, and she's got a knife wound to the abdomen. We're going to need a blood transfusion immediately. She's got severe trauma to the head, and bruising to the torso, with possible broken or bruised ribs. We'll need X-rays as soon as we get her some blood. Victim also appears to have been raped," said one paramedic as he radioed in to the hospital. Don winced as the man listed the damage done to her.

They had just lifted the gurney into the ambulance when Don saw Mac and Lindsay arrive. Pausing for a moment to fish the keys for his squad car out, he tossed them at Mac, and then climbed in next to Elizabeth. Grabbing hold of her hand he looked up just in time to see the ambulance doors close.

Mac was driving the Crime Lab S.U.V. with Lindsay in the passenger seat. She was busy packing a few more supplies into her kit when Mac's phone rang. Grabbing the phone from its holder, Mac answered the phone.

"Taylor."

"Mac we have a serious problem, you need to get to the scene right now."

"Why, what's happened?"

"One of our victims is alive."

"That's good; maybe she can help us identify the perp."

"Mac, the victim is Detective Elizabeth Armstrong. She's been beaten and raped."

"I see. I'm calling everyone off of their cases; we need to find this guy immediately. Lindsay and I are almost there." Mac knew they were only minutes from the crime scene. They'd gotten the call twenty minutes ago, but since they'd been in the lab, it had taken them a while to arrive on the scene.

"Good, 'cause the ambulance just pulled up. I'm ridin' with her to the hospital."

"Keep me posted." Mac said before hanging up. He quickly hit the speed dial button for Stella. She, Danny, and Hawkes were working a robbery-homicide at a bodega and he needed them on this case _immediately._

"Bonasera," Stella answered.

"Stella. I need you, Danny, and Hawkes at West Broadway and Canal Street immediately. You're being reassigned."

"I thought you and Lindsay were working that case."

"We all are. One of our victims turned out to be alive. It's Elizabeth Armstrong, Stella." Mac heard Stella gasp in surprise.

"We'll be there as soon as we can."

"Flack's going with her to the hospital. Once I know where she's been sent, I'll call you. I'm going to need you to do a rape kit on her."

"Oh no, Mac!" Stella said softly.

"Just hurry," Mac urged before hanging up.

"Mac?" Lisdsay asked. "Who's Elizabeth Armstrong?"

"She's the niece of Police Commissioner Wilson, and daughter to the Chief of Detectives."

A/N: I've been toying with this idea for a while and decided to work on it while I tried to fix some of the plot holes in my other fic City of Angels, which I _will_ continue eventually. I already have the next few chapters of All in a Day's Work written and will be posting them in the next couple of days, following some proofing, since this fic starts in the present and will have several flashbacks. I hope you liked it!


	2. October 6, 2006

All in a Day's Work

Shipping: FlackOC, possible DL & MS

Spoilers: Through the end of Season 2; later chapters may reference Season 3, but I'll be sure to let you know if they do.

Summary: When a case hits close to home, Flack and the team must rush to keep one of NYPD's own from being killed.

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI: NY or any of its characters. Nor do I own Law and Order: SVU. Please don't sue me, I don't have any money.

A/N: Thanks to those of you who reviewed, and I realized after your comments that the change in POV _was_ confusing, so in the future, when the story will be coming from multiple POVs, I'll try to make the transition smoother and a bit more obvious. Again, I appreciate all reviews, both positive and negative. Sorry this came up a little late, it was supposed to be up on Saturday, but some friends of mine and I were in a bad car accident, so this got pushed off. If you're confused about when these events are occurring, just look at the dates at the beginning of each chapter.

_Friday, October 6, 2006_

"Our vic is Shirley Johnson, a twenty-nine year old single woman who lives alone. She was found dead this morning by the building's super, who had come to drop off a package for her. He found the door ajar, and when he came in he found her like this."

Detective Elizabeth Armstrong and her partner Detective Jimmy Craig listened as the uniformed officer explained the situation for them. As members of the Special Victim's Unit, they saw plenty of disturbing scenes, but this one was one of the worst she'd seen in a long while. Their vic was lying on her stomach on the floor. Her hands were bound and attached to the legs of a heavy table while her legs were spread and tied to the handles of the doors to her bathroom and her bedroom. From the angle and positioning of her legs, the perp had likely slammed the doors shut and wrenched her legs in opposite directions while slowly tightening the rope. She had been raped and ultimately strangled, and her body was beaten bloody.

"It's amazing no one heard anything. I can't imagine she just laid there and let him do this to her." Lizzy said as Jimmy headed over to talk to the building super, who was being questioned by the uniforms.

"We found her gagged with this," the officer held up an evidence bag with a bloody rag in it. "Could explain why no one heard anything." Lizzy winced and began to walk the room as the coroner and one of the CSIs untied the rope used to bind her. Glancing up, she saw that Jimmy was heading her way and that the super had left the apartment. She set down her kit and straightened as he reached her side.

"Building super says she was a good tenant; always paid her rent on time, respectful of her neighbors, and was always willing to help anyone who needed it. He didn't think she had a boyfriend, but said she kept to herself most of the time. He's going to give us a list of all the tenants so we can canvas the building. Someone had to have buzzed him in, since you have to have a key to get in the building."

"Okay, I'm going to help process the scene. You gonna head back with the body?"

"Yeah, as soon as I get that list from the super; I'll run the list, maybe one of her neighbors has a record. I'll see you in a few hours?"

"Yeah, keep me posted." Lizzy sighed as she got to work. _Today's gonna be a _long_ day._ She and several of the CSIs began to glove up and get to work.

Lizzy decided to start with the bedroom, because even though their vic had ended up in her living room, the bedroom appeared to be where everything had started. Slowly, as she began to block out the noise in the apartment—the hum of the air conditioning, the crackle of the uniforms' radios, the sounds of the other CSIs at work—Lizzy's forensic instincts began to kick in. While bagging up the sheets, which had traces of semen, blood, and some other shiny substance, she noticed a reflective glint where the headboard and the mattress met. Using a pair of tweezers she was able to pull a thin gold necklace with a four leaf clover charm free from the mattress. Engraved on the back was **Kiss Me, I'm Irish**. _Shirley Johnson isn't an Irish name, so perhaps this is our killers'._

As Lizzy was dusting the dresser for fingerprints, she noticed some small blue and green flakesnext to a ring of water damage. Lizzy bagged a sample, and took a photo of the dresser, and moved on. Finally after two hours and six rolls of film, she and her fellow CSIs had finished processing the scene. Now to get back to the lab and start analyzing what they'd found.

Once back at the lab, she got to work. She put her samples of the flakes from the dresser into the mass spectrometer and swabbed the necklace for epithelial cells and dusted it for prints. She put the swab into CODIS and scanned the partial print through AFIS. Now she had to wait. After ten minutes of doing nothing, she called the phone company who agreed to send copies of Shirley Johnson's phone records to her ASAP; in the meantime, she figured she'd better eat while she had time, or she'd miss out later.

_Several hours later…_

"So we have no match in AFIS or CODIS with the evidence we've found so far. The only phone calls she makes besides those to her work—she's a receptionist in a high powered law firm, Jenkins, Schreker, and Boothe—are to her building super, a few takeout restaurants, a local pharmacy, and her doctor's office." Lizzy said as she set the forensics report down on her desk with a sigh.

"Does this girl have _any _friends?" Jimmy asked.

"According to what we've found so far—no. Did you get anything from the super's tenant list?"

"Well we have a guy who lives two floors down with two DUIs. A guy three floors up who's been arrested for petty theft and B & E. A woman who has a history of domestic assault, I know, you don't hear that one too often." Jimmy said at Lizzy's look of surprise.

"However, the guy who lived down the hall from Shirley has two priors for sexual assault. William Ackerson, 34, spent five years in Sing Sing, then another four in Attica for separate charges of sexual assault. He got out on good behavior both times, and when he was released from Attica he claimed he'd been 'healed' and no longer had any licentious thoughts towards women."

"What a load of bull! _Healed _my ass! Did you talk to the super about him?"

"Yeah, said the guy seemed all right, kept to himself. The super didn't know Ackerson was an ex-con, though. He said he wouldn't have rented to him if he'd known."

"Well, I pulled a few partials from the scene, so maybe we'll get a hit off of those that'll match us to Ackerson. In the meantime, we should go talk to our ex-con and see what he's got to say for himself. I can't help but wonder how an ex-con managed to get an apartment in such an expensive building."

"According to his file, he comes from a family with old money. Ackerson Shipping & Trading has apparently been in business since New York became a state, according to the background info in his file." Jimmy said, showing her the page on Ackerson's family history.

"Lovely. He's not just a perv, he's a perv with resources. That's just fantastic."

When they arrived at Ackerson's apartment he was home and unsurprised at seeing them at his door. He let them in, but not without shooting a sleazy smile at Lizzy. She managed to suppress a shudder, but only just. She also wished she was wearing something that covered up more skin. Though her shirt was far from indecent, it showed more cleavage than she wanted Ackerson to see.

"I'm Detective Craig, this is my partner, Detective Armstrong. We have a few questions to ask you regarding the death of Shirley Johnson."

"What can I do for you officers?" Ackerson said as he sat on his sofa. Lizzy walked around the room as Jimmy began questioning Ackerson about his whereabouts the previous night.

"I was at work, with ten other people. I'm a proofreader at a legal firm. I go in and proof legal documents with legal students and English majors. I was at Bergstrom, Peterson, and Strong last night. I have their business card on the desk," he said nodding towards the desk in question. "So you can call them up and verify my alibi."

"Work as a proofreader is about the only job I can get that doesn't involve cleaning or mechanical work, and since I have a master's in English…" Ackerson trailed off and shrugged. "Plus, some of the students who proof with me are quite lovely. As are you Detective…Armstrong, you said? How did such a lovely woman such as you end up as a cop?" He smiled, and it made Lizzy feel sick.

"How well did you know Ms. Johnson?" Jimmy asked, after shooting a glance at Lizzy who had picked up the business card and was copying the information into.

"Not at all; I'd pass her in the hallway, but that's about it. I don't really speak with any of my neighbors. They aren't my type," he said and this time, he didn't hide the look he shot at Lizzy.

"Hey, you if don't cut that out I'm gonna haul you to the station for questioning."

"Well, if Detective Armstrong gets to put the handcuffs on me, I wouldn't mind."

"That's it! I'm haulin' you in, punk. Get on your feet, hands behind your back."

"What am I being charged with officer?"

"Harassment of a police officer; you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be provided for you at government expense. Do you understand?"

"Of course," Ackerson said, he glanced at Liz and raised his eyebrows. "Aren't you going to help, Detective?" Lizzy scowled at him at opened the door to his apartment, pulling out her radio she called in that they were bringing in Ackerson on harassment charges.

_Two hours later_

"I can't believe that asshole gets to leave! Why not let all the creeps with records back onto the streets? Argh!" Furious, Lizzy slammed her hands down on her desk and tried to calm down. Jimmy came over and rested his hand on her shoulder.

"I know it sucks, Lizzy. But unfortunately, according to the Captain, his behavior wasn't a crime. But we can still look at him for Shirley Johnson's murder. Let's compare his prints to the ones we pulled from her apartment, I'll check out his alibi, see if he really was at work." With a sigh, Lizzy stood and decided to get to work.

"I guess I'll get on his prints. I'll also see if Ackerson has worked as a proofreader at the law firm Shirley Johnson worked at."

A/N: Chapter 3 is well on its way to being finished so I'll probably post it tomorrow.


	3. October 7th, 2006 Part I

All in a Day's Work

Shipping: FlackOC, possible DL & MS

Spoilers: Through the end of Season 2; later chapters may reference Season 3, but I'll be sure to let you know if they do.

Summary: When a case hits close to home, Flack and the team must rush to keep one of NYPD's own from being killed.

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI: NY or any of its characters. Nor do I own Law and Order: SVU. Please don't sue me, I don't have any money.

_Saturday, October 7, 2006_

Detective Elizabeth Armstrong scowled as she slammed the case file for Shirley Johnson down on her desk. Her partner, Jimmy Craig, looked up as she dropped into her chair.

"No luck?" He asked as he hung the phone he'd been talking on prior to her abrupt interruption.

"That sonofabitch's prints didn't match! Can you believe it? We've got an ex-con with a history of sexual assault that lives down the hall from our vic, and he's not the murderer! Arrgh!"

"I know, I just got off the phone with the law firm Ackerson was proofreading at, he was there from 8 pm to 5am, with nine people who can alibi him. He has worked as a proofreader at the firm Shirley Johnson worked at, but her work hours don't match up with those of the proofreaders. She was the day receptionist; the night receptionist came in a 6 pm and was in charge of the proofreaders, and according to her Shirley never had any interaction with them. At least you won't have to talk to him again. He really did a number on you."

"Do we know of anyone who's been into her apartment recently? Has she had any deliveries or repairs in the past couple of weeks?" Jimmy had gone back after Ackerson's released and had canvassed their vic's floor and the four floors above and below it with some uniforms. No one had seen or heard anything out of the ordinary.

He'd stopped in to see the super and had instead met the super's wife. She'd given him cookies and coffee while he waited for her husband who was doing some repair in the building's laundry room. The super's wife, Angela, had told Jimmy that they were in the process of adopting a child, since Jimmy had commented on the abundance of children's toys in the apartment. They wanted a little boy, and since the apartments were small, they'd had to sell some of their belongings to make room for all the children's things. When the super had arrived, Jimmy had asked him a few more questions about Shirley and then had headed back to the precinct. He hadn't learned anything of value to their case.

"The super said half of her floor had had plumbing issues and he'd done repair in everyone's apartments, but none of her neighbors really paid much attention to her comings and goings. We don't even have any suspects now that Ackerson is out. I guess I'll head over to her office; she might have a friend there since she calls the office frequently when she's not working. Maybe she was seeing someone at her work."

"I guess I'll take another look at the evidence; maybe we missed something the first time through. Call me if you get anything?" She asked as she grabbed her lab coat.

"Of course," Jimmy grabbed his gun and his badge and headed out the door.

Lizzy decided to sort through the evidence that she hadn't processed. Some of the other CSIs had gone through the evidence, but she hadn't looked at all of it yet. According to the lab report, the DNA from the epithelials on the necklace Lizzy had found matched the DNA in the semen on Shirley Johnson's sheets and the semen from her rape kit; the sample didn't match anything in CODIS, so that was a dead end for now. The lab techs had analyzed the semen on the sheets and found that some of it was degraded, indicating it had been there a while, while other samples were newer. So Shirley Johnson had been sleeping with someone regularly and they had killed her. _If only we knew who she was seeing. What woman leaves no signs of a boyfriend or lover in her apartment? No photos, no mementos, not even a postcard. It must have been something she wanted kept secret._

The fingerprints on the necklace had matched the fingerprints scattered throughout the apartment, including some partials that had been imprinted on the tape on the victim's package. _Maybe the killer sent her something by mistake and went to retrieve it. Maybe when he didn't find it he got mad and killed her. But we have no idea who he is._ The package, with it's wrapping intact, had been carefully opened by the lab techs to reveal nothing but assorted books.

Lizzy scowled as she glanced at all the bags of evidence lying across the table. There didn't seem to be _anything_ that could help point them to their killer. Lost in thought, she pulled out her memo book to see if she written anything down that could help trigger a revelation. It was just before she flipped the page that she saw her notation about the foreign substance on the sheets and the flakes on the dresser. Setting her memo book aside, she searched through the bags until she found the evidence swab from the bed. She prepped the swab and ran it through the mass spectrometer. While she was waiting she looked through the lab reports and found the printout for the flakes, which one of the lab techs must have finished. _Fish food? Why would our vic have fish food? There were no fish in her apartment—but there _was_ that water stain on her dresser, which could have been from a fish bowl. But then where did the fish go?_

As Lizzy was pondering the disappearance of the fish, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and flipped it open, "Armstong."

"Hey, I talked to the people at her office. One of the secretaries said our vic had been talking at work about some guy she was seeing. Apparently, the guy was married so Shirley had to keep it hush-hush. No one here knows his name, but the secretary told me that he'd given Shirley some fancy pet fish. Apparently the guy was a collector."

"That matches up with some evidence I've found, but there's no fish in the apartment. Maybe it died? If it was rare or expensive, it could have caused the boyfriend to kill her."

"Over a fish? C'mon, Lizzy, you don't really believe that do you?"

"Some tropical fish cost thousands of dollars; you never know. Maybe he saw it as a sign she didn't love him if she let it die. Ask the secretary if she knows what happened to the fish, maybe our vic told her if it died."

"Alright, I'll see what she says," Lizzy heard the mass spectrometer shut off.

"Hey, Jimmy I've got to go. My results just came in."

"I'll talk to you soon." Lizzy flipped her phone shut and walked over to examine her results. According to the chemical analysis, had traces of copper sulfate and sulfuric acid, frequently used in preparation of copper. Copper was used in piping and Jimmy had said the super had been doing repair on the piping on their vic's floor. The super was a married man; the secretary had said Shirley's boyfriend was married. But the super and his wife were getting ready to adopt, that didn't seem likely if he was having an affair.

Frustrated, Lizzy ran a hand through her hair as she looked over everything she had. _Okay, what we know so far. One, the vic was dating her murderer. Two, he was married. Three, he left a **Kiss Me, I'm Irish** necklace behind. Four, he gave her a fish. Five, he sent her a package of books._ Lizzy felt her phone go off again, the Caller Id flashed **Jimmy**. "Armstrong," she answered.

"Hey, I got something. The secretary said the fish was still alive as far as she knew."

"Um, okay, so that wipes out the revenge for the dead fish theory, but that doesn't get us anywhere."

"That doesn't, but the secretary said that Shirley had gone with the boyfriend to pick out the fish. She gave a business card from the fish store to her boss, because he'd wanted to get a tropical fish for his son. The boss still had the business card, Al's Exotic Fish and Aquatic Supply; it's off Broadway. I'm going to head down there and see if the guy recognizes a picture of Shirley. If he does, he might remember who she came in with. The secretary also said, from the way Shirley talked, the boyfriend lived in the same building as her."

"Excellent! I guess I'll try questioning the rest of the tenants to see if I can find her boyfriend."

"I'll call you when I finish talking to the fish guy."

"'K, I'll talk to you later." Lizzy grabbed her coat and the list of tenants of off Jimmy's desk and headed out.

_Two hours later_

Lizzy had talked to everyone else in the building, and no one had known Shirley. Well, if they had, they'd done a tremendous job of acting as if they didn't. Jimmy had called her earlier to tell her the owner had been at home, but was going to come in and help Jimmy look through the store's customer records to find Shirley's purchase. Lizzy figured she might as well head back to the precinct to wait for Jimmy, since she'd struck out here. She was just getting to the front doors when a woman, over laden with grocery bags, came in. Seeing one of the bags on the verge of falling, Lizzy offered the woman a hand.

"Hi, I'm Detective Armstrong. Do you live here?" Lizzy asked as she set the groceries on the woman's kitchen counter.

"Hello, Detective. I'm Angela O'Connelly, the superintendent's wife. I think I spoke with your partner yesterday. Have you had any luck finding Shirley's killer?"

"Unfortunately, no. Did you know her well?"

"I'd met her a few times. She was a very nice girl. Sometimes she'd come down and visit with me while Shawn was working. It's a shame, she was very young."

"Yes she was. Do you know of anyone in the building she might have been seeing? We believe she was dating someone in the building based on something she'd said to a friend."

"No, I hadn't heard anything about Shirley and one of our tenants, but then again, I've been rather busy lately."

"Yes, my partner tells me you're getting ready to adopt, congratulations."

"Thank you, but it's certainly going to be an adjustment. We've had to get rid of a lot of things to make room for the child and to make the apartment safer for a child."

"Oh, did you have a bunch of power tools lying around?" Lizzy asked with a smile.

"Oh, no, nothing like that!" Angela said, laughing. "We had to get rid of some of the chemicals Shawn uses for maintaining the building and we had to sell our fish."

"Fish?" Lizzy said, no longer laughing.

"Yes, we had a huge aquarium—my husband collects you see—but the tank is a drowning hazard for small children. It near broke my husbands heart to sell those fish. In fact, he missed them so much, he went and got a single fish to keep around the house. It's in a small bowl, so it won't be dangerous for a small child."

_My god, it's the super. He had fish, he's married, he handled the copper piping, he brought the package to her apartment, and with a name like Shawn O'Connelly, that necklace it likely his. He must have taken the fish that was in her apartment. It's been there for us to see the whole time. But what was his motive? Was he simply afraid that Shirley would blab to his wife?_ Lizzy's thoughts were broken by Mrs. O'Connelly.

"Are you alright? You seemed lost for a moment there," she asked kindly.

"I was wondering when your husband might be back, because I had a few questions to ask him about the package he delivered to Shirley's when he found her body."

"Package? Why would Shawn be delivering a package? All mail is delivered to the tenants doors by the postman. I guess she must not have been home so the postman dropped it here. That's odd," she seemed to be puzzled, but everything was getting clearer by the minute to Lizzy. He wrapped the books as an excuse to go up to her apartment so he could call it in!"Oh, but Shawn should be home around five. He had some paperwork to drop off for the adoption and he had some supplies to get. Would you like me to tell him to call you?"

"Yes, that would be nice. Whenever he gets the chance, no rush," Lizzy said, handing Mrs. O'Connelly her card. She didn't want the super to suspect they were on to him, and try to run. She said goodbye to Mrs. O'Connelly and rushed out to her car. As soon as she was in she called Jimmy.

"I know who it is."

"What? Who?"

"The super, he was having an affair with Shirley. All the evidence points to him; what I can't figure out is what his motive was."

"That part I have figured out. Doc Harrison called, after doing an autopsy on Shirley Johnson, they found out she's three months pregnant. If the super and his wife were going to adopt, he wouldn't want Shirley to suddenly announce that she was having his love child."

"The wife said her husband would be home around five. I'm pretty sure he thinks he's gotten away with it, so if you can get here in twenty minutes with some backup, we can haul his ass in to jail."

"I'll be there."

_Three hours later_

They had managed to haul Shawn O'Connelly in without much ceremony, though Lizzy had felt bad for his wife. Once Lizzy and Jimmy had presented him with all the evidence against him, he'd cracked and admitted to murdering her to try and prevent his wife from finding out he'd gotten Shirley pregnant. He'd been booked and locked up and it was time to go home.

"You got any big plans for the night?" Jimmy asked as he finished up his paperwork.

"Yeah, I'm supposed to meet a couple of the girls out at a club. Do a little dancing, have a few beers, relax. I'm off tomorrow so I don't have to make it an early night. What about you?"

"Bev found a babysitter, so we're going to have a nice quiet evening to ourselves. It'll be nice for a change." Lizzy laughed as she gathered her things to leave.

"You two have a fun time, then." She gave Jimmy a friendly kiss on the cheek, waved goodbye to the Captain, who was still in his office, and headed home.

What she didn't know is that she wouldn't be making it to that club tonight. She wouldn't be doing anything she'd planned, because two hours after she got off of work, she'd be attacked, raped, and left for dead.

A/N: Okay, so there's chapter three. Chapter four is going to be back in the present, as Flack and the rest of the team try to figure out what happened to Lizzy. Hope you enjoyed it. Please review, all reviews are appreciated, even the mean ones. ;)


	4. October 8, 2006 Part II

All in a Day's Work

Shipping: FlackOC, possible DL & MS

Spoilers: Through the end of Season 2; later chapters may reference Season 3, but I'll be sure to let you know if they do.

Summary: When a case hits close to home, Flack and the team must rush to keep one of NYPD's own from being killed.

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI: NY or any of its characters. Nor do I own Law and Order: SVU. Please don't sue me, I don't have any money.

_

* * *

__Sunday, October 8th, 2006_

Detective Don Flack sat in the speeding ambulance as it raced through the streets of Manhattan. Elizabeth Armstrong, the battered detective he'd pulled from the dumpster, was still gripping his hand as one of the paramedics was applying pressure to the large cut across her abdomen. Judging by the amount of blood that coated her dress and the pile of bloody gauze on the ambulance floor, she'd lost more than a little blood.

"Which hospital are you taking her to?" Don asked. Elizabeth's hand was clammy and she was looking worse with every passing second.

"We're taking her to Bellevue. They've got the best Emergency Center in Manhattan and it's one of the closest hospitals. We should be there in a minute or two. Ms. Armstrong, do you know what blood type you are?" Elizabeth nodded; her pale face had broken out in a cold sweat and her eyes were beginning to lose focus.

"Can you tell me what type you are?"

"She can't talk; her throat's messed up from her attacker." The paramedic grimaced as he realized how her attacker had hurt her throat.

"Are you an A? Are you a B? An AB?" She shook her head after each question. "An O?" She nodded. "Okay, O positive?" Again she nodded.

"Ernie, call the hospital and tell them we need bags of O positive ready for a transfusion." As Ernie the driver called the hospital on the radio, the other paramedic shook his head. "We better hope there's some available, O positive always runs out fast."

"I'm O positive. I've donated at the blood bank and I've got one of those emergency family card-thingies where you can have your donations given to your family. She can have the blood I donated; she needs it more than me." The paramedic looked relieved at Don's statement.

"Do you have your donor card? I can get the hospital to phone the blood bank and have an emergency drop-off at the hospital." Being careful to continue holding Elizabeth's hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He flipped it open and pulled out his Red Cross Blood Donor card and handed it to the paramedic. Don heard the sirens shut off at the same moment the ambulance jerked to a stop. The doors to the bus were thrown open and ER doctors quickly helped to pull Elizabeth's gurney from the bus.

Don was forced to let go of her hand as they rushed her into the ER room. Just before the door shut behind them he saw Elizabeth's head twist around to look at him, and Don felt a jerk in his chest. _Goddamned son-of-a-bitch is gonna pay for hurting one of our own!_ Frustrated, Don ran his hand through his hair. Judging by the list of injuries the paramedic had listed off, she was likely to be in the ER for a while.

Don flipped open his cell phone and quickly dialed Mac's number.

"Taylor."

"Mac," Don could see through the large windows as Elizabeth was hooked up to an IV and several other machines. Then one of the nurses pulled the curtain around her bed closed and she was lost to him.

"What's her status?" Mac's question startled Don from his thoughts. Shaking his head, he answered.

"She's in the Bellevue ER right now. She's in bad shape Mac. She's got a stab wound to her stomach, she's got broken or bruised ribs, head trauma, and she was raped. She's probably gonna be in there for a while. You gonna send Stella to do the rape kit?"

"She just pulled up with Danny and Hawkes. As soon as I bring them up to speed, I'll send her to the hospital. I'm on my way to Police headquarters to talk to Chief Detective Armstrong and Commissioner Wilson."

"I'll keep you updated on her condition. Let me know how things go, okay?"

"After I talk to her father and uncle, I'll stop by to see you and Elizabeth. Keep her safe Flack; her attacker is still out there and he might want to finish her off before she can ID him."

"I won't let her outta my sight until we catch this guy, Mac."

"Good." Don flipped his phone shut and took a seat on one of the plastic chairs outside the ER. Every couple of minutes he'd twist around in the chair to see if he could see what was being done to Elizabeth, but the curtains around her bed remained closed as the doctors and nurses rushed to do their jobs.

* * *

Detective Mac Taylor flipped his phone shut and turned to face the CSI Suburban as it pulled up alongside the curb. Stella got out of the passenger seat as Danny grabbed his kit from the back. Hawkes, who'd been driving, reached in and flipped the flashing lights off.

"I'm glad you're here. We have one DB in the dumpster down the alley. Flack's at the hospital with our other victim, Detective Elizabeth Armstrong." Mac saw the looks of astonishment on Danny and Hawkes' faces. "So you know what this means. We've got to solve this case and solve it fast. One of our own has been brutally attacked and raped and we need to get her attacker off the streets. Stella, I want you to head to Bellevue to do Elizabeth's rape kit. Danny, Hawkes, I want you to comb every inch of this alley to get every piece of evidence you can. Lindsay, I'd like you to head to the One-Six and talk to Elizabeth's partner in the Special Victims Unit. Maybe her partner can shed some insight on any people that may have a grudge against her."

"Meanwhile, I have the duty of informing the Chief of Detectives that his daughter has been attacked. Keep me posted. The Commissioner and the Chief Detective will want to know what's happening as soon as you find _anything_." As soon as Mac had finished speaking, his team split up to perform their assigned tasks.

Thirty minutes later Mac was standing outside the office of the Chief of Detectives for the NYPD. Chief Armstrong was apparently busy, according to his secretary; Mac was getting angry, after all this was important.

"I need to speak with Chief Armstrong _immediately_. This is an emergency!"

"I'm sorry Detective Taylor, but you don't have an appointment. If you come back this afternoon I could—hey! You can't go in there!" Angry at the secretary's indifference, Mac had pushed past her and opened the door to the Chief's office. He was startled, however, by the company that the Chief was with. Don Flack Sr. was sitting in the chair facing the Chief's desk, though both of the men were now staring at Mac in surprise.

"I'm sorry sir, I _told_ him you were busy, but he just barged in here!"

"That's okay, Christine. You can go; I'll deal with Detective Taylor." Shooting an angry glance at Mac, Christine left, shutting the door behind her. Chief Armstrong stood up and walked around his desk to address Mac.

"You'd better have a good reason for barging in here Mac. You may be fellow Marine, but that doesn't mean you can have the run of my office."

"You had better sit down, Peter." Mac said softly.

"Why? What's happened?"

"About two hours ago, two convenience store workers discovered two female bodies inside a dumpster off of West Broadway. One of my detectives—Flack Jr., actually—was doing a preliminary look at the scene when he realized one of the victims was alive. Peter, the victim he found was Elizabeth. Your daughter was left for dead inside the dumpster." Peter collapsed against his desk.

"What?!"

"She's been badly beaten, Peter, but she's alive. Flack is with her right now and I have my entire team working this case."

"She's alive?"

"Yes, but Peter…" Mac paused; there was no easy way to say it. "Peter, she's been raped."

"Oh God!" Flack Sr. had jumped up to steady Peter, who looked on the verge of collapsing.

"She's in the Bellevue ER. Flack, if you could arrange to bring Mrs. Armstrong to the hospital, I'll take Peter there now."

"Of course; I'll head over right now. Everything's going to be all right Peter, Lizzy's still alive and they're gonna catch the guy who did this to her." With a nod to Mac, Don Sr. quickly exited the office. Mac gave Peter a few minutes to compose himself, before he spoke.

"Peter, you need to call the Commissioner and tell him what's happened. This is going to be all over the news, and he shouldn't find out about his niece's attack from a news bulletin." Peter had slowly regained some of his coloring after Don Sr.'s comments of hope.

"You're right. If you can just give me a few minutes Mac?" Mac stepped outside to offer Peter privacy. Don Sr. must have said something to the secretary who didn't comment on Mac's presence. Ten minutes later, Peter stepped out of his office and Mac led him to his car. "We need to pick my brother up from his home, if that's alright with you Mac?"

"Of course, just tell me how to get there."

* * *

Don sat on the hard plastic chair outside of Elizabeth's ER room. She'd been in there for over an hour. He'd had no news, either from her doctors or from Mac, and it was driving him crazy. Shortly after she'd gone in, one of the ER nurses had taken down his information as well as all the information he had on Elizabeth Armstrong.

"Hey stranger," Don looked up to see Stella heading down the hallway with a sad smile. She was holding her CSI case and a camera bag.

"Hey yourself."

"Any news on her condition?" Stella asked as she sank down into a chair next to Don.

"Nah, they're still working on her. They brought in a cooler full of blood bags about forty minutes ago, but other than that, no one's gone into or out of the room."

"How'd she look?"

"Like a corpse; if she hadn't opened her eyes, I never woulda figured she was still alive." They were both silent for a moment as they thought about what would have happened if Don hadn't realized she was alive. "When we find the guy who did this, I'm gonna kill him. How anyone could hurt a woman is beyond me."

"I know," Stella said softly.

"You know, if Frankie hadn't already been dead when we found you, I'm not sure who would've shot him first—me or Mac." Stella laughed softly and squeezed Don's hand to show him she appreciated his concern. Just then, the door to the ER swung open and a doctor stepped out in messy scrubs.

"Detective Flack?" Don stood up and walked over to the man.

"I'm Detective Flack."

"I'm Doctor Walters. Ms Armstrong is in stable condition right now. She's being moved to the ICU so we can keep an eye on her. As per your orders, all of her personal effects have been saved and we have them in an evidence bag for you. We were careful not to wash away any evidence from her rape, so a kit can still be administered."

"How's she doin'?"

"She has a minor concussion and two broken ribs on her left side. Her throat is still swollen shut from her attack, but should show signs of improvement within a couple of days. The stab wound to her stomach tore up some of her stomach muscles, but didn't cause any damage to her organs, which is a miracle. Unfortunately, that wound as well as several that are on her legs, the head trauma, and the bleeding from her rape caused her to lose a considerable amount of blood. She's very weak right now and her concussion is making her feel nauseous, but there's nothing more we can do but make her comfortable. Due to the head trauma and her broken ribs, we want to keep her here for at least three or four days to be sure there aren't any complications."

"Of course; is there any way we can see her now?" Don asked, he wanted to see for himself that she was okay.

"Yes, she was asking for you, Detective." Dr Walters said with a smile.

"I though her throat was still swollen shut?"

"It is, but she can speak sign language. One of our nurses has a deaf son, and she was able to translate for us. She says she needs to talk to you right away." Surprised Don nodded and gestured for Stella to follow.

Dr. Walters led them down the hallway into the ICU and pointed out the door number 191. "Our nurse volunteered to translate for you and is waiting inside with Ms. Armstrong." Thanking the doctor, Flack and Stella pushed the door opened and entered the room. Elizabeth was sitting up on her bed; she looked pale and very fragile.

"Hi," Don said softly as he sat in a chair next to her bed. She gave him a painful looking smile, and reached out for his hand. Don squeezed it before turning to introduce Stella.

"Elizabeth, this is Detective Stella Bonasera. She's going to do your rape kit. She's one of the best Detectives I know, and she's gonna help us catch whoever it was that did this to you." Elizabeth pulled her hand from his and made a few gestures that Don didn't understand. He turned to look at the nurse, who was watching Elizabeth's hands.

"She says she knows the man who did this to her and that she can tell you his name," the nurse translated.

* * *

Duh-duh-dun!

A/N: Anyways, there's chapter four. I'm kinda sad that no one reviewed my last two chapters. Please someone review so I know whether people are reading this.

Also, I tried to make it more obvious where the POV changes, since I know a few people had trouble with that in chapter 1.

The next chapter is going to be the rape and will definitely not be for those faint of heart. Again please review, even if it's criticism, at least I'll know someone read it.


	5. October 7th, 2006 Part II

All in a Day's Work

Shipping: FlackOC, possible DL & MS

Spoilers: Through the end of Season 2; later chapters may reference Season 3, but I'll be sure to let you know if they do.

Summary: When a case hits close to home, Flack and the team must rush to keep one of NYPD's own from being killed.

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI: NY or any of its characters. Nor do I own Law and Order: SVU. Please don't sue me, I don't have any money.

**_WARNING—READ BEFORE CONTINUING ON TO THE CHAPTER: This chapter features some pretty graphic scenes involving rape. If you're uncomfortable with this, I don't recommend reading this chapter. Remember, it's rated M for a reason._**

_

* * *

Saturday, October 7th, 2006_

Detective Elizabeth Armstrong quickly unlocked the door to her apartment and stepped inside. Glancing at the clock on the wall, she figured she'd have forty-five minutes until she had to leave to get to Wild, Wild, Wet, where she was meeting her friends. She'd already set out the dress she was going to wear to the club before she'd left for work earlier this morning.

Quickly stripping off her work clothes she tossed them into the hamper before turning the shower on. While the water heated up she hit the PLAY button on her answering machine to listen to her three missed calls.

_"Lizzy! Hey it's Chrissy, you'd better still be coming tonight, or we're so gonna kick your ass! Just 'cause you've got a badge doesn't mean we can't beat you up! Haha, just kidding. But seriously, ten thirty at WWW III, okay? And no bailing this time, just cause you're a cop doesn't mean you shouldn't let loose. Plus, you're the only one of us who's still single, so me and the rest of the girls are determined to find you a man. See you later!"_

Elizabeth laughed at Chrissy's message, but she couldn't help but be a little worried about her threat to "find you a man". True, of all her friends she was the only one that was currently single; two of the girls in her group of friends were married while the other two were in serious long-term relationships. But Elizabeth hadn't had the greatest of luck with men lately. Her job was so demanding and time-consuming that she didn't have a lot of time to spend with a significant other.

Unfortunately, the last two guys she'd dated, Ted, the accountant, and James the Wall Street stock broker, had been not so understanding of her time constraints. And boy had they been vocal in their complaints. She believed the words Ted had used were, "Self-absorbed, self-righteous cold-hearted bitch."

When she thought about it, the only decent relationships she'd had since she'd joined the force were with fellow cops and her dog, Prince, short for Prince Charming. Her thoughts were interrupted by the beginning of her next message.

_"Hey pumpkin, your mother wanted me to call and remind you that she's making dinner for the family next Saturday. Your brothers are both coming and so are your Aunt and Uncle. I hope you can make it, but if you can't… Well, no family understands being called in more than ours. I heard from your captain that you and Jimmy caught the perp who slaughtered Shirley Johnson. Good job, pumpkin. Stop by my office some time this week if you're not too busy to visit your old dad. I love you."_

Elizabeth smiled, despite having to deal with hardened criminals everyday for the last thirty years, her dad was still a softie when it came to their family. He'd called her pumpkin ever since she'd tried to dye her brown hair a shade of vibrant red many years ago. She'd left the dye in for too long and her hair had turned a bright orange color. She winced as she remembered how the kids at school had laughed. It was supposed to be red for Halloween, because she'd wanted to go as Poison Ivy, but she'd ended up having to wear a wig because her hair had looked awful.

_"Hey little sis, just thought I'd give you a call to see if you maybe wanted to go to the Yankee game on Wednesday. Hank won some tickets off a radio show and since they play Boston it should be a good game. They've got a chance to cinch the pennant if they can beat Boston three out of four games. Let me know if you can go. I know it might be hard with work, but maybe dad can pull some strings and get you off in time to go. Love ya, little sis. Oh and Hank says hi."_

Elizabeth grinned as she pinned her hair up and grabbed a shower cap. Richard, or Rick, was six years older than her and was a Lieutenant in the two-four. Her other brother, Henry, or Hank, was four years older than her and was a detective in the three-four. Her brothers lived with their girlfriends, who were also in the force. Elizabeth, being the only single Armstrong child, was apparently a disappointment to her mother. Every time they spoke, her mother, Alice, asked if she was seeing anyone, and when Elizabeth said no her mother would nag her, "Don't you want children? You'd better get to work, dear. Tic toc, time's running out you know!"

Testing the water's temp, Elizabeth stepped into the shower and quickly washed up, careful to avoid getting her hair wet. Once she was done, she quickly stepped out and dried off. Glancing at the clock she had about half an hour to get ready. She grabbed a bottle of lotion and slathered it on before she grabbed her dress. It was a cute plum colored dress with and empire waist and thin straps. She had a shiny black belt she slipped around her waist and some black strappy shoes with killer heels.

It took her another ten minutes to reapply her makeup and then she fixed her hair. Since her hair was naturally wavy, all she had to do was muss it up and it gave her that sexy just-rolled-out-of-bed look. She dug through her closet to find a clutch and then stuffed her wallet, badge, cell phone, and her gun into it. Quickly hitting the lights she refilled Prince's water bowl and then locked her front door.

Since the weather was nice, she figured she would walk the six blocks to Wild, Wild, Wet rather than catch the subway. She was two blocks away from her apartment when she heard a sound from down an alley. Pausing to glance down the dark alley, she was suddenly hit from behind. She lost her balance and fell forward; throwing her arms out she managed to break her fall and roll to the side to face her attacker. She gave a cry when she recognized William Ackerson.

"Hello Detective, I've been waiting for you." Before Elizabeth had a chance to scream for help, Ackerson swung a pipe at her head and everything faded to black.

* * *

When she came to she was lying in an alley, but she wasn't sure if it was the one she'd been looking down when Ackerson had attacked her. Her head was throbbing and she could feel something sticky coating the side of her face. Her vision was slightly blurred so when suddenly Ackerson's face came into view she was startled. She opened her mouth to scream when he slapped her, stunning her into silence.

"Oh you're a wild one, _Elizabeth._" The way Ackerson said her name made her skin crawl and she felt nauseous, though that might have been from the blow to her head. "Ever since you came to my door and teased me with that sexy shirt, I've been waiting to see you again. My goodness, you got all dressed up just for me."

"You sick bastard. HEL—"Elizabeth's scream was cut off by a backhanded slap and then suddenly he was on her. She tried to fight but found he'd bound her hands with something. He was pawing at her clothes and then she felt her underwear tear. She tried to twist away but his grip was too tight.

"Hold still!" he growled as he fought her. "I said, _hold still!_" When Elizabeth refused to hold still he grabbed hold of the pipe he'd used earlier and brought it down hard on her ribs several times. Elizabeth went limp as she felt something crack, she gasped for breath, and whimpered in pain. Before she could catch her breath, Ackerson shoved a rag into her mouth and Elizabeth had to force herself not to gag.

Ackerson yanked down his pants and before Elizabeth could fight back he was suddenly inside her. She screamed as best she could, but the gag muffled most of the sound. She managed to scrape the side of his neck with her fingernails and she was pleased to see red welts rise up. Ackerson hissed and began to slam into her harder. Tears ran down her cheeks as she felt herself tearing and the pain became unbearable. Her vision blurred and she went limp.

* * *

When she came to the second time, her whole body ached and she could feel the warm, sticky substance between her legs. It hurt to breathe and every time she inhaled, she felt a stabbing pain in her side.

"Hello, Sleeping Beauty." Elizabeth's head snapped back to see him standing over her. He hadn't bothered to zip up his pants and was now wielding a wicked looking knife. "You look so delicious, I could practically eat you. Perhaps I'll have to carve you up for dinner." Elizabeth's eyes widened as she looked at him in terror. With a sinister grin, he walked towards her.

"But first, I think I'll have you eat me darling. We'll need to take this out, first, though." He pulled the gag from her mouth. Her jaw was aching from her mouth being held open and from the blows he'd dealt her earlier. And then he proceeded to humiliate her in the worst possible way. To prevent her from doing any damage, he held the knife to her throat throughout the whole thing. By the time he was satisfied, her throat was raw and he was spent.

"Now my dear, it's gotten rather late. Well, early I suppose. And since you'd be quite a sight to smuggle home, I'm afraid I'll have to leave you here. But fear not, I have some company for you. This," he said stepping back to gesture behind him, "Is Jenny." Elizabeth stared at the dead girl who was slumped against the alley's wall. Her eyes were glazed over and she looked as though she'd been hit by a bus.

"Unfortunately, since I can't have you running off to report me to your police friends I'm afraid you'll have to die." Ackerson sat on her legs to hold her still as he made cuts up her thighs until he reached her stomach. "Goodbye, darling," he smiled at her as he brought the knife down into her stomach. Elizabeth gasped as the knife sliced into her, but that only caused her to gasp harder as her hurt ribs pressed into her lungs.

Ackerson cut the tie around her wrists and tossed it into a pile of trash, and then he reached down and threw her over his shoulder. Elizabeth was beginning to feel lightheaded as he tossed her into the dumpster. She heard him scuffling around and then he tossed her purse at her. "It'll be no good trying to use your phone, I've removed the battery. Who knows, maybe you'll survive the stab wound. Even so, I'll be by tomorrow night to have a little fun, _regardless_ of whether you're still alive." Elizabeth clamped her hands over the wound to try and staunch the blood, but she could feel herself losing her grip on consciousness. Just before she passed out, she felt him dump poor Jenny into the dumpster and the lid slam shut.

* * *

Light filtering through her eyelids woke her for the third time. Well, that and the fact that her purse was being pulled from her hands. Opening her eyes she was suddenly looking into the most beautiful blue eyes she'd ever seen. Jerking back out of pure instinct she pulled back to find that those beautiful baby blues were in a face that was equally as gorgeous as the eyes that went with it.

"Holy shit!" the man yelled in surprise. He quickly turned to yell, "Call an ambulance, we've got a live one!" As handsome as his face was, after last night she flinched away from him when he reached into the dumpster. He quickly reached into his jacket and showed her a badge. "I'm a detective, I'm not gonna hurt you, I just wanna help. Is it okay if I pull you out?" _Oh thank god, _she thought. She nodded and he reached in and pulled her from the dumpster.

As she was pulled up, she caught a glimpse of Jenny's legs sticking up awkwardly from the dumpster. He yanked off his coat and laid it on the ground before helping her to sit. "What hurts the most? Have you been shot or stabbed ma'am?" He was kneeling next to her now, and his concern was obvious. When Elizabeth tried to tell him, she found that she couldn't speak. Panicking, she clawed at her throat. Reaching out to reassure her, he said soothingly, "Okay, I understand, you can't talk. Do you at least remember who you are? Just nod if you do."

A thought came to Elizabeth; her badge was in her purse. But, where was her purse? She'd had it in the dumpster! She began to look around frantically; she'd only just had it! She looked at the detective in panic; he looked confused because he didn't know what she needed. She saw the badge clipped to his belt and lunged. He was startled, and didn't move when she pulled it free. Waving it in his face she pointed at the badge then herself several times. Suddenly, understanding and horror flashed across his face. Elizabeth mimed holding a purse and he jumped to his feet and walked to the dumpster. He pulled out her purse and dug through it until he pulled free her badge wallet.

Elizabeth saw him flip it open and just as quickly flip it shut. He yanked his cell phone out and made a call, but she couldn't make out what he was saying. It didn't matter anyway since during her search for her purse she'd stopped applying pressure to he stab wound. Looking down and seeing her dress coated in her blood, she felt sick. Sirens were wailing in the background and the handsome detective flipped his phone shut. He walked over to her and took her hand; it was large and warm and made her feel lightheaded all over again.

Then the paramedics were there and they were lifting her onto a stretcher. Through her fog of thoughts, she heard the paramedics saying something, but the words weren't processing in her brain. The detective held her hand as they climbed into the ambulance and it pulled away. Suddenly she was aware that the paramedic was speaking to her.

"Ms. Armstrong, do you know what blood type you are?" Elizabeth nodded; she'd broken out in a cold sweat and her eyes were beginning to lose focus. She felt so cold; the only part of her body that didn't feel cold was the hand that the detective was holding.

"Can you tell me what type you are?"

"She can't talk; her throat's messed up from her attacker." She was grateful the detective had spoken, because she didn't have any energy left.

"Are you an A? Are you a B? An AB?" She shook her head after each question. "An O?" She nodded. "Okay, O positive?" Again she nodded. Once she was sure he was done talking to her, she let herself slowly drift off. She felt the ambulance jerk to a stop and felt the gurney being moved. And through it all the detective held her hand. She could see the doctors swarming around her and then his hand let go, they were pushing her into a room, but before they did she twisted around to look at his face one last time.

Medical jargon buzzed in her ears, but none of it made sense to her right now, she was so sleepy and all she could think about were baby blue eyes. _Perhaps I'll just take a little nap…_

* * *

A/N: Well, I'm surprised I actually got this out so quickly but since I knew who the perp was (and as you see Daisyangel, it wasn't the super, but it was a good guess since he was the perp who killed Shirley Johnson) I didn't have to try and come up with someone new. I hope you got a little bit of insight into Elizabeth's character, notesofwhimsey, but Elizabeth's going to have a lot more backstory in the next couple of chapters.

Speaking of chapters, I probably won't be updating this until after the 15th, since I have finals for the next two weeks, but then I should be pumping them out pretty quickly since I know exactly where my story is headed. That's part of the reason I wanted to get this chapter out so fast, since I won't we able to write a new one for a little while.

Thanks for all the reviews for chapter 4; it makes it easier to continue with a piece when you know it's appreciated. I hope you enjoyed it and perhaps a few of you spotted my reference to a season 2 episode? Toodles for now and please review 'cause it makes my day!


	6. October 8, 2006 Part III

All in a Day's Work

Shipping: FlackOC, possible DL & MS

Spoilers: Through the end of Season 2; later chapters may reference Season 3, but I'll be sure to let you know if they do.

Summary: When a case hits close to home, Flack and the team must rush to keep one of NYPD's own from being killed.

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI: NY or any of its characters. Nor do I own Law and Order: SVU. Please don't sue me, I don't have any money.

_

* * *

__Sunday, October 8th, 2006_

Danny Messer and Dr. Sheldon Hawkes set their processing kits down at the edge of the alley that Elizabeth Armstrong had been found in. The rest of their team had just left, headed off to do their appointed tasks. Both the CSIs knew how big this case was, so instead of the usual chatter, they got to work.

"Do you want the dumpster, or should I take it?" Danny asked Hawkes as he gloved up.

"I've got it. I want to take a look at our other vic before Peyton gets here to take her away."

"Alright, I got the rest of the garbage." Danny started with Elizabeth's purse. He placed a marker down, snapped a few photos, and quickly bagged it before moving on. There was scattered garbage everywhere throughout the alley. Apparently the two businesses that abutted the alley didn't bother keeping it clean. Because of the importance of the case, Danny bagged anything that didn't look like it belonged there—a cell phone battery, an empty prescription bottle, a key ring, a lone tennis shoe, an empty wallet, and a grungy looking rag. Danny was just finishing bagging and tagging the rag when Hawkes called out.

"Hey Danny, come take a look at this!" Danny took a few quick strides back to Hawkes who was no longer dumpster diving. "I was finished in the dumpster and was climbing out when I dropped my flashlight. It rolled under the dumpster, and when I got down to pick it up, look what I found." Hawkes held up a pipe with blood and a few strand of dark hair stuck to the end.

"Could be what he used to beat her up," Danny said. Since neither Flack, nor Mac had called to tell her what kind of injuries Elizabeth had sustained, they could only postulate on the use of the pipe.

"What about our Jane Doe, you find ID on her?"

"No, no identification, which isn't surprising since she's lacking clothes, there's wouldn't have been anyplace to put it."

"How'd she die?"

"Exsanguination, from the look of it; she has several knife wounds to her legs and a bad stab wound from her stomach. It's hard to tell if any organs were damaged, but no doubt she lost a lot of blood. What'd you find?"

"Mostly a lot of garbage; I bagged anything that doesn't belong, but it's an alley, so everything doesn't belong. I do have Elizabeth's purse. I don't know if she was carrying last night, but there's no gun in her bag." Danny shrugged, if their perp had stolen her gun, he could use it in another attack. His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Peyton.

"Morning Sheldon, Danny." She nodded at each of them as she pulled her ME bag from the passenger seat. "I heard about Elizabeth Armstrong; any news from Mac on her condition?" Peyton was picking her way over Danny's marker and all the debris in the alley.

"Nah, and Mac said he'd let us know when he knows. He wants us to be prepared for the inevitable press problem, since they'll be swarmin' all over this."

"No doubt." Peyton said with a smile. "So where's my DB?"

"In the dumpster, I didn't want to risk moving her until you got here. Everything related to this case has to be done perfectly." Hawkes said, leading Peyton over to the DB. Danny figured he'd let the two of them look over their other victim. He had a quick phone call to make, while they were both busy. Hitting the speed dial on his phone he listened to the tinny ringing sound as he waited for what seemed an eternity for the phone to be answered. _C'mon, c'mon, answer the phone._

"Monroe," _Oh thank God, she picked up, if anything happened to her…_

"Hey, Montana, howya' doin'?" Danny pushed his glasses up his nose, a nervous habit Lindsay had commented on more than once.

"Danny? What's up? Is something wrong?" She sounded worried, and instantly Danny felt guilty for making her panic. _Of course she thinks something's wrong. You're workin' a big case and you call her outta the blue? Jesus, Messer, you really are whipped._

"Nah, I'm just worried about you, ya know? One of our own goes down, and my girlfriend is on her own, makes a guy worried is all."

"Danny, that's sweet, and I appreciate the gesture, but I am trying to work."

"Yeah sorry, I just didn't really get a chance to talk to you before Mac sent you off."

"Danny," Lindsay breathed into the phone. Danny swallowed hard at the sound, God he loved her voice. "You talked to me less than two hours ago, remember? When we both got called in from work and had to crawl out of bed?"

"Yeah I know, but that was before we found out a female Detective got raped and beaten. Can you blame me for being worried?"

"Of course not, but you don't have to worry. I'm in a police precinct and I'm surrounded by cops. I'll be fine."

"Alright, I just wanted to check in."

"Are you guys done processing the scene?"

"Nah, Peyton just got here; she and Hawkes are checking over our other DB. It's hard to tell what's evidence and what's not, since everything looks like garbage, but we did find a pipe which may have been used in her beating."

"Well, that's something. Listen, her partner just walked in, so I have to go. I'll see you back at the lab?"

"Be careful Montana."

"Always," Danny sighed as he flipped his phone shut.

* * *

Lindsay Monroe sat in the Special Victims Unit department in the One-Six precinct. Sitting around her were Elizabeth Armstrong's partner and the rest of their SVU team. When she'd arrived at the precinct over an hour ago, the only one who was in was the Captain. When she'd told him about Elizabeth's attack, he had immediately called in the rest of the team. While she had waited for their arrival, he'd given her permission to look through Elizabeth's desk and her recent case files.

Lindsay had looked through Elizabeth's desk and had found several photos of her with people, friends, by the looks of it. There were several with her and two men, sometimes the three of them together. Both of the men were tall, with dark hair, and dark eyes. There were also pictures from the annual Christmas Police Ball; Elizabeth was dressed in a gorgeous deep purple gown and was surrounded by a group of people, undoubtedly her fellow officers.

Aside from the photos, there weren't many personal items in her desk; everything else seemed work related. She had sorted through contact lists for various sources and an old packet of mug shots for suspect identification. Old timesheets and work schedules were mixed in with take-out menus for nearby restaurants. _No doubt, for those all-nighters they have to pull._

Danny's call had been a welcome interruption of her search, though she'd never tell him that. It was nice to know he cared, though this case was so important, anything not related to the case should probably be put on a back burner, until their perp was caught. She'd gotten through half of the case files Captain Bernard had set out for her when people started to file in. Lindsay recognized them as the people in the photos from the Christmas ball.

"Okay everybody, settle down." Lindsay noticed several curious looks thrown her way, but she ignored them. Once the Captain had relayed the news, they would know who she was. "This morning, around six am, several bodies were found in a dumpster off of Broadway. When the first Homicide detective arrived on the scene, he realized one of the vics was still alive." Lindsay glanced around the room as the Captain talked. All the members of the team were listening intently. _They must think this case is for them_, she thought sadly. Unfortunately, it couldn't and wouldn't be.

"The vic who was alive was Elizabeth; she's been taken to Bellevue for her injuries. This," he said gesturing to Lindsay, "Is Detective Monroe. She and her team are working Elizabeth's case. She can tell you a little more about Elizabeth's condition." All six heads in the room swiveled to look at Lindsay. Shock and disbelief were displayed over their faces.

"Two convenience store workers had found two bodies in a dumpster in an alley behind the store they worked in and called it in. Officers arrived and secured the scene but didn't examine the bodies themselves, as they were partially buried under trash. The detective who works with us went to see if he could find identification on either of the bodies. One of the victims, Detective Armstrong, woke suddenly. She was taken to Bellevue in a bus; I haven't been updated on her status since she was taken away in the ambulance, but we know she was beaten badly and raped, and we have to assume that her attacker presumed she was dead."

"I know how much you want to work this case, but due to IAB guidelines, you can't. I can promise you that I will keep you up to date on any information relating to the case or Detective Armstrong's condition."

"What do you need from us?" One of the men asked, as the SVU team sat in stunned silence.

"I need any information you have on her recent cases. Is there anyone who might have wanted to hurt her? Is there anything in her personal life that could have led to this? My boss is with the Chief of Detectives and the Commissioner as we speak, but her family is likely to be in too great of shock to be of much help. I need your help, as both detectives and her friends, to help get me as much information on her as possible, so we can start compiling a list of suspects."

"I'd like to talk to you one at a time, if possible, just so it's less confusing and so you can have a few minutes to compose yourself." Lindsay said, nodding towards the two women who were crying.

"I'll go first." Said the man who had spoken, stepping forward. "I'm her partner, Jimmy Craig."

* * *

Mac Taylor grimaced as he brought the crime lab vehicle to another stop. Of course, today, of all days, there had to be traffic. And unfortunately, the crime lab vehicles weren't equipped with lights and sirens like other police vehicles. He glanced over at Peter Armstrong, Chief of Detectives for the NYPD. Peter was pale and in a daze, still reeling from the news of his daughter's attack.

Mac was driving the chief to his stepbrother's home, to pick him up. His stepbrother was Charlie Wilson, the Police commissioner. The two men were brothers by marriage, but were closer than many blood brothers Mac had ever met. Charlie was the eldest; he'd been 12 when his father, also a cop, was killed in the line of duty. Two years later his mother had married Peter's father, who had worked in the same precinct as Charlie's dad. Charlie had been 14 and Peter had been 10.

Mac had met Peter in the Marines. They'd been recruited at the same time and had attended boot camp together. Though they'd been deployed to different destinations following their graduation, they'd kept in touch and Peter had made Mac one of Elizabeth's godfather's. When Mac had been transferred to New York, he'd been thrilled to see more of his former Marine buddy and to spend time with Elizabeth, or Lizzy, as she'd preferred to be called. She'd been the flower girl at his wedding to Claire. He'd attended her graduations from high school, college—which she'd done at night school while simultaneously attending police academy—and her eventual rise to Detective.

And now he had to find the man who'd attacked her.

A/N: So I finally posted, sorry for the delays, but with finals and the holidays it's been pretty crazy around my house. Oh, and the fact I'm leaving for a semester abroad in 2 weeks hasn't helped. I hope everyone has had a great holiday season, Chanukah, Christmas, and Kwanzaa and the best of luck to everyone for New Years. I should have another chapter up either really late tonight or sometime tomorrow. I promise we'll see some Flack/Elizabeth interaction.

Oh, and please review!


	7. October 8, 2006 Part IV

All in a Day's Work

Shipping: FlackOC, possible DL & MS

Spoilers: Through the end of Season 2; later chapters may reference Season 3, but I'll be sure to let you know if they do.

Summary: When a case hits close to home, Flack and the team must rush to keep one of NYPD's own from being killed.

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI: NY or any of its characters. Nor do I own Law and Order: SVU. Please don't sue me, I don't have any money.

_

* * *

Sunday, October 8th, 2006_

"She says she knows the man who did this to her and that she can tell you his name," the nurse translated.

"What?!" Don asked in surprise. He quickly turned to look at Elizabeth. "Do you want a piece of paper to write down his name?" She nodded and Don pulled his memo book from his pocket and handed it to her. She quickly scrawled down something on the paper then thrust the memo book at Don. Don read what she had written out loud.

"His name is William Ackerson. My partner Jimmy can tell you all about him."

"You're one hundred percent sure it was him?" Stella asked her. Elizabeth nodded and made a few gestures with her hands. Both Don and Stella looked at the nurse for translation.

"She says he was a suspect in a case she finished yesterday, but he was found to be uninvolved. She says he was harassing her and her partner arrested him, but he was let out on a technicality. But she says she saw him and she knows it was definitely him. She said her partner can tell you all about what happened."

"I'd better go call Mac and have an APB put out on him." Don made to leave but Elizabeth grabbed his hand. Surprised, Don turned to look at her, and she mouthed, _Don't leave me, please!_ Don noticed the slight smirk on Stella's face at this interaction, and felt his face flush. Rubbing the back of his neck, he muttered to Stella, "Uh, do you think you could call Mac?"

"No problem Flack, you just stay here, I'll be back in a few minutes." With a reassuring smile at Elizabeth, Stella walked from the room. Don sat down in the chair next to the bed and sat there in silence for several minutes, never letting go of Elizabeth's hand.

He probably would have continued to sit there in silence until Stella had returned if the nurse hadn't cleared her throat and startled Don from his musings. "Uh, you can probably go. We'll call you if we need your help again. Thanks for translating."

"Of course; if you need more help just tell someone at the nurse's desk and they'll send for me." Once the nurse had left the room, Don turned to look at Elizabeth. Her face looked even worse than it had when he'd first found her, since the bruises had now fully developed. Her eyes were the most brilliant shade of emerald Don had ever seen and they far out-shadowed the impact of the bruising on her face.

"Is there anything I can get you? Do you want some water?" Don asked her, waving towards the water pitcher on the side table. She nodded and Don moved to get the water, but could only move a few feet before he realized she hadn't dropped his hand. "I'm gonna need this hand to get you that water." He said, jokingly. She flushed and dropped her eyes as she let his hand go. He quickly poured her a glass of water and handed it to her. She managed to avoid his eyes as she sipped at the water. Don realized he felt like a teenager again, nervous around a girl he liked.

"Don't you worry," Don said. "We're going to find this guy and he's gonna pay for what he did to you. Mac'll make sure he gets the maximum time for this." She looked at him in question before gesturing to his memo book again. Handing it to her, he waited as she wrote a question down.

"Mac? Mac Taylor?"

Surprised at her knowing Mac, he grinned. "Yeah, Mac's the head of our CSI unit. Do you know him?"

"He's my godfather."

"Really? I didn't know Mac knew you, he never said anything when I called him." Elizabeth shrugged as if to say, _You know Mac_. Don smiled and was about to ask her another question when the door opened again and Stella stepped in.

"I called Mac. He has your father and is on his way to get your uncle. And apparently," Stella said, turning to Don, "Your father is picking up Elizabeth's mother."

"My dad?" Don asked shock.

"He was in a meeting with Chief Armstrong, and he volunteered to pick up Mrs. Armstrong. I also called Lindsay, since Mac sent her over to the One-Six. Mac wants you to meet up with a SWAT squad that's heading over to Ackerson's house. Their ETA is about twenty minutes. You can take my car; Mac will give me a ride back to lab once he's here." Don nodded and took the paper Stella offered him, with Ackerson's address on it. He turned to face Elizabeth and saw the worry in her eyes.

"We're gonna get him. Stella will take real good care of you 'til your folks get here. And once we get this guy, I'll come back to check up on you, okay?" Elizabeth smiled at him, and mouthed the words, _Good luck_.

* * *

Stella Bonasera watched as Don walked out of the hospital room door. If she didn't know better, she'd say Don and Elizabeth liked one another. _Too bad they had to meet like this, but maybe Don can give her the support she needs to get over this._ Stella walked over to her field kit and set it on the empty bed next to Elizabeth's.

"I know you probably want to rest, but the sooner I get your rape kit done, the less chance of contaminating the evidence. Are you okay with this?" Stella asked as she pulled a pair of gloves from her kit. Elizabeth nodded and scribbled something on Don's memo book, which he'd forgotten. Stella vaguely wondered if he'd done it on purpose, so he'd have an excuse to come back and visit, but she shook the thought off to read what Elizabeth had written.

"I'm a CSI too; I understand what needs to be done. Besides, once you're done, I can take a bath, and that's all I really want to do right now."

Smiling at Elizabeth's weak attempt at humor, Stella nodded. "Then let's do this." For the next twenty minutes Stella worked in silence. First she collected fingernail scrapings, and then swabbed Elizabeth's hands to test the DNA of the blood on her knuckles. She swabbed the semen sample Ackerson had left on Elizabeth's cheeks and combed through her hair to get any evidence that may have become tangled in her hair. Then Stella photographed all the bruising, cuts, and other marks Ackerson had left on Elizabeth. Now was the hard part, the rape kit.

Elizabeth made no sound throughout the whole process; she simply closed her eyes and waited for it to be over. When she was finally finished, Stella pulled off her gloves and threw them in the trash can.

"All done. Are you okay?" Stella asked her. Elizabeth nodded and mouthed the words, _I hope they get him._ "Don't worry; I'm sure they'll get him." Elizabeth smiled weakly at her before closing her eyes again. There was a soft knocking at the door and Stella walked over to open it to a face she recognized from the annual Policeman's Ball. Chief of Detectives Armstrong stepped into the room and dropped down on his knees next to his daughter's bed. Commissioner Wilson quickly followed him and stood behind his step-brother. Not wanting to intrude, Stella picked up her kit and left the room.

Mac was standing in the hallway speaking with Elizabeth's doctor in hushed tones. Both men looked up as Stella walked over.

"Like I told your detectives, we want to keep her here for a few days for observation. She's got a mild concussion and we just want to make sure she doesn't lapse into a coma. Add in her broken ribs and you have the risk of punctured lungs. Once you've finished her rape kit, we can wrap her ribs and bandage her cuts."

"I just finished with her rape kit. She asked if she could get a bath." Stella commented holding up her kit as proof.

"I'll tell one of the nurses to be sure she gets to bathe. Unfortunately, with her wounds it won't be much of a bath, but it should help her feel cleaner and then once we bandage her up, she should physically feel much better." Stella could hear the doctor's unspoken statement. _She might feel better physically, but emotionally she's still going to be hurting_

"Thanks Dr. Wilson, I appreciate your help. I was hoping we could get a copy of your reports to take back to the lab. We'll need it to help build up the strongest case we can against her attacker." Mac asked the doctor in his most serious tone.

"I'll have one of my nurses make a copy for you. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to see to my other patients." Waving to them he headed off to another room down the hall.

Stella stood talking with Mac for a few moments when the elevator doors down the hall dinged open and a short woman with dark hair and green eyes stepped into the hallway. Her eyes, which Stella noticed had been passed on to her daughter, were red and watery from crying. Don Flack, Sr. was helping to support her as she walked down the hall to see Mac and Stella.

"Oh Mac, how is she? Will she be okay?"

"She's going to be fine, Linda. She's a fighter and she'll be okay. Peter and Charlie are in with her right now, she's right in there." Mac said calmly, gesturing towards Elizabeth's room.

"Oh thank you, Mac. I don't know what we'd do if you weren't here. Promise me you'll catch him?"

"We will; Don's with the SWAT team right now to go in and get this guy." Mac's words gave evident relief to Mrs. Armstrong and with a quick squeeze on Mac's hand she went in to join her husband and his brother.

* * *

Don pulled his Kevlar vest on and made sure the straps were adjusted properly before joining the captain of the SWAT team. They were outside Ackerson's apartment building and the SWAT team was positioning itself to go in from all entrances. Don had met Elizabeth's partner Jimmy only minutes before, and now both men were ready to go in and catch the bastard who had dared to hurt Elizabeth. At the captain's signal the men moved in and rushed up the stairs to the sixth floor.

Men were stationed at both the front and rear exits as well as by the entrance to the stairs and elevators, should Ackerson try to flee. Adrenaline rushing, Don and Jimmy flanked both sides of Ackerson's door. With a nod from Jimmy, Don turned and kicked the door in. Don and Jimmy quickly entered, guns drawn, to search the apartment. Several SWAT members followed them in, should they need backup.

To their frustration the apartment was empty. Angry, Don slammed his fist onto the kitchen table. Jimmy quickly placed a call to the other SWAT team, who had gone to Ackerson's work. A few minutes later, Jimmy flipped his phone shut.

"Did they get him?"

"Nah, he called in sick first thing this morning. He must have figured we'd run the DNA in the system and get a hit and decided to run while he had a chance."

"Do you think he knows she's still alive?"

"I doubt it. He'd have never have left her if he thought she'd survive. He probably figured he'd use what time he had before we connected him to the case. I'd better go tell my Captain."

"Yeah, I need to tell Mac and then see if we can get some leads as to where he went."

"Tell Elizabeth I'll be stopping by to see her soon. Good luck, Flack. I wish I could do something more to help, but you know the rules…" Jimmy said, trailing off.

"I'll tell her. We'll keep you updated on her status and let you know if we get any tips on Ackerson's location." Don shook Jimmy's hand before heading out of the apartment building.

* * *

Twenty minutes later he arrived back at the hospital. After parking the car, he rode the elevator to Elizabeth's floor and stepped into the hallway. Mac and Stella were sitting with his father, as well as the Armstrong's and the Police Commissioner; everyone looked up at his entrance.

"Did you get him? Is he in jail?" Asked the woman Don presumed to be Elizabeth's mother. The two women had the same bright green eyes and the same rounded face. Don shook his head sadly at her question, and saw her face fall and her shoulders slump.

"He was gone long before we got to his apartment. He knew we'd connect him eventually, since he's already in the system. We have an APB out in across the state as well as all the bordering states. Captain Bernard wants to have his picture run on the news and ask for tips from civilians but he's waiting for you to give him the okay." Don said nodding towards the Chief and the Commissioner. "Hopefully, someone will see him and be able to call it in. We've frozen his bank accounts, so he won't have access to any money in his accounts, but he might have had time to withdraw some before he ran for it."

"I guess I'd better tell Lizzy. She'll be devastated," Chief Armstrong said. Don felt his heart clench at the thought of hurting Elizabeth.

"I'll tell her." He said suddenly surprising them all. As Don marched into her room, he failed to see Stella's smile.

* * *

A/N: Okay, so there's another chapter for you all. I promised Don/Elizabeth mush and there's a little. Obviously it can't be too intense until she's feeling better, but there are the beginnings of their relationship. Another chappie should be out in a day or two, depending on whether or not anyone bothers to review. Hopefully I'll get a few and have some motivation to review.

Next chapter will feature Don to the rescue and some more DL.

REVIEW PLEASE, I BEG OF YOU!!!!


	8. October 8, 2006 Part V

All in a Day's Work

Shipping: FlackOC, possible DL & MS

Spoilers: Through the end of Season 2; later chapters may reference Season 3, but I'll be sure to let you know if they do.

Summary: When a case hits close to home, Flack and the team must rush to keep one of NYPD's own from being killed.

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI: NY or any of its characters. Nor do I own Law and Order: SVU. Please don't sue me, I don't have any money.

_

* * *

Sunday, October 8th, 2006 _

Don stepped into the hospital room where Elizabeth Armstrong was resting. Her eyes were closed, and Don wondered if she was asleep, but as he drew nearer her eyes opened and she turned to look at him. When she recognized him, she smiled. His happiness at her reaction was short-lived as he remembered why he'd come into her room in the first place. She held out her hand to him and Don carefully grasped it as he sat in the chair by her side.

"Did you get him?" she asked softly. Her voice was raspy and sounded weak, but it was music to Don's ears, just being able to hear her talk. Don slowly shook his head, as he thought about how to tell her, but before he could speak, she beat him to it.

"He made a run for it." She stated, and then she sighed. "I figured he would. But I'm surprised, he told me last night—" Elizabeth broke off as she fought back tears. "He told me last night, that he was going to come back tonight and have some more fun, and it didn't matter to him if I was alive or dead." Anger welled up inside of Don as he realized what Ackerson had insinuated.

"I'm not gonna let that happen. We'll get officers to patrol that alley on the off chance he stops there. We _are_ gonna get him, Elizabeth, I promise."

"I know you will—" she broke off as she started coughing. Don quickly handed her a cup of water and she was able to bring her coughing under control. She smiled at him through watery eyes, and Don felt his heart break a little bit.

"I should let you rest; do you want me send anyone in before I leave?"

"Is Mac here?"

"He's outside. Do you want me to get him for you?" Elizabeth nodded and let her eyes drift close. Don squeezed her hand once more before dropping it and heading out into the hallway.

Everyone in the hallway was crowded in a corner, staring at one of the television screens set up for visitors. As Don got closer he was able to make out what the reporter was saying.

"I'm here, outside the alley where Police Commissioner Wilson's niece, Detective Elizabeth Armstrong was found this morning, brutally beaten and raped. An anonymous source tipped us off as to her identity, but police arrived on scene before we did. Detective Armstrong, daughter to the NYPD's Chief of Detectives, is recovering in Bellevue hospital, where she'll stay until she's her injuries have healed. We are unaware of her current condition, but as soon as we know, you'll know. This is Suzy Sommers, reporting live for Channel 7 News, back to the studio."

Cries of outrage from all the viewers soon drowned out further reports on the television. Both Commissioner Wilson and Chief Armstrong were yelling over their phones about how this could possibly have been allowed to air. Mrs. Armstrong, who had burst into sobs at the news piece, was being consoled by Stella and his father. Mac was the only person who seemed calm at the moment. Don stepped over to him and was able to hear what he was saying.

"Lindsay, Channel 7 News just aired a story on Elizabeth's attack. The reporter said an anonymous source told them whose body it was that was found in the alley. The only person who could have done that was Ackerson. I want you, and some of Elizabeth's SVU team, to try and convince the news station to tell us where and when they got that information. We might be able to find out his location at the time of the contact. There has to be some reason why he wanted this story on the news. Call me as soon as you get anything." Mac flipped his phone shut, and noticing Don, turned to face him.

"What's up?"

"Elizabeth was asking for you." Don said softly, not wanting to annoy the two males in her family any further. They'd stopped their shouting momentarily while they listened to Mrs. Armstrong. "You didn't mention you were her godfather."

"It wasn't pertinent to the case. I'll go talk to her, and when I come back, we can talk." Mac said as he stepped around Don to enter Elizabeth's room. Don walked over to Stella.

"Danny and Hawkes just got back to the lab. They bagged anything and everything they could find in that alley. I've got to get this," she said gesturing at her field kit, "back to the lab. Night-shifters all got called in to help with lab work so we can get it all out fast. They still haven't ID the other victim. So once I drop this off with the night-shifters I'll be heading to the morgue to help Sid and Peyton with our other vic."

"Hopefully we'll get something that will lead us to Ackerson. I don't like the idea of this guy out walkin' the streets, ya know what I mean? It aint safe for anybody, but I want to get him for Elizabeth, so she feels safer." Stella just smirked at him and gave him a look. "What's that supposed to mean?" Don asked defensively.

"I saw how the two of you were all googly-eyed at one another." Don shot her a look, mostly to try and disguise the flush he felt rising in his cheeks. "Ha, I knew it. You won't outright deny it. You want to protect her, be her _hero_." Stella said with a cheeky grin. "I think it's cute. Besides, she's going to need someone like you to look out for her while she gets better." Knowing there was nothing he could say that would convince Stella otherwise, Don simply kept quiet.

Both he and Stella were startled when Don Flack, Sr. stepped over to them. "Uh, hi Dad," Don said awkwardly.

"Donnie, Stella." Don Sr. said nodding to them both. A heavy silence settled over the three of them as they watched Mrs. Armstrong sobbing while her husband and brother-in-law yelled over their phones. Don remembered how it had been for his parents when he'd been in the hospital; he knew it was more painful sitting around feeling useless, than actually going out and doing something. Feeling determined, Don headed over to Elizabeth's family.

"Hello, Mrs. Armstrong, can I get you anything right now?" he asked her. She shook her head. "I know you want to be with Elizabeth right now, but the doctor said she needed rest, and I was hoping you could do us a huge favor and go and get her some clothes and whatever else she might need from her apartment, so when she wakes up, she can be more comfortable."

"I can—can do that. P—Peter?" She asked her husband, who noticing his wife, hung up the phone. "Will you take me to get s—some of L—Lizzy's things from her apartment?" Noticing Don's look, the Chief of Detectives, quickly agreed.

"Yes, I think that would be a good idea." Chief Armstrong took his wife by the hand and led her to the elevators. Now Don tuned to the Commissioner, who had just realized his brother's absence.

"Commissioner, one of our CSIs is working with Elizabeth's team to try to get Channel 7 to give up their anonymous source so we can hopefully link it back to Ackerson. Perhaps you can work with them and use your influence as Commissioner?" Don asked, as politely as he could.

"Yes, perhaps my influence will help sway the news people into revealing their source. I'll get down there right now!" Commissioner Wilson quickly followed the Armstrong's in making himself useful and soon silence filled the hallway.

"Well, that was helpful." Don, Sr. said. "I'm amazed you got them out of here so easily." Don shrugged in response to his father's comment, and stayed silent. "Well, does anyone need a ride? I brought Mrs. Armstrong along, but she no longer needs my services."

"You could give me a ride back to the crime lab; I need to get this rape kit in for processing. Don, can you stay and give Mac a ride?"

"Sure, I'm not sure what he wants me to do anyways. There seems to be people working on every aspect of the case and nothing for me to work on."

"See you back at the lab, then. Tell Mac I'll call him when results are in?"

"Will do; bye Dad."

"See you Donnie."

It was nearly ten minutes later when Mac left Elizabeth's room, and Don was beginning to wonder what she was telling him. Seeing Mac exit, Don quickly stood up and dropped the Cosmo magazine before the Marine could see what Don had been avidly reading. However, when Mac reached Don's side, he didn't miss the smirk on Mac's face and Don felt himself flush.

"What?" he asked, embarrassed at being caught.

"Lizzy says she thinks you're cute." Mac said. Too happy to try and hide it, Don grinned.

"Really? She said that?" At Mac's look, Don was brought short, and tried to play his excitement off. "I mean, uh, that's cool. Yeah…" Don trailed off. Mac laughed at him.

"Where'd everyone go?" Don quickly explained where the various groups had gone as Mac got a cup of coffee from the pot next to the nurses station.

"What do you want me to do? I want to do something to get this guy, Mac."

"I know, but I need you to be here, for now. She's resting right now, but when she wakes up I need you to get Elizabeth's statement, she may have information about Ackerson that could lead us to him faster than anything else we find. Plus the doctor said he's going to be checking her concussion and her injuries frequently to be sure her condition doesn't worsen. I need you to notify me when he does these checkups because everyone at the station wants to be sure she's okay."

"Okay, I'll stay. But let me know when you guys are getting close. I want to help take this guy down. I don't care how dangerous the situation is, I wanna go in Mac."

"You will. Her parents will probably be back soon, if they've only gone to get some clothes, and the Commissioner told me he's assigning some uniforms to guard her until we catch Ackerson." Don nodded. "Okay, I've got to get to the lab to help. I'll talk to you soon."

_

* * *

Two hours later _

It had been two hours since Mac had left for the lab. The Armstrong's had come back more than an hour ago, just after the uniforms had shown up. Chief Armstrong had told Don to go get something to eat, that he and his wife would sit with their daughter and that they'd call him if she woke up.

Don grimaced as he took a swig of the coffee in the hospital's cafeteria. It was worse than the shit that passed for coffee at the station. And that was sayin' somethin' indeed. He'd gotten a sandwich and a bag of chips to eat, but the thought of Ackerson, still on the streets, made his mouth dry and Don had trouble forcing the sandwich down. The only way he was able to stomach it was the thought that at any moment, Mac could call with Ackerson's location, and Don knew he needed to keep his strength up if he was gonna help with a takedown.

He'd just gotten up to get a bottle of soda when he saw the two uniforms assigned to Elizabeth walk into the cafeteria and grab some food. Don quickly abandoned his soda and headed them off.

"What are you two doin' down here? You're supposed to be watchin' Detective Armstrong."

"One of the nurses came in to change her bandages and the Chief said we could get something to drink while the nurse was with her." Scowling slightly at the Chief's easy dismissal of the officers, he shook off the officers' questions and headed to the elevators to get back to Elizabeth. It seemed to take hours for the elevator to come and for it to stop on Elizabeth's floor. At the other end of the hallway, near Elizabeth's room, Don noticed the Armstrong's sitting in the visitor's chair in the hallway. Feeling some of his worry fade, Don stopped at the nurse's desk to ask a question.

"Can I help you Detective?" The nurse asked, recognizing him from earlier.

"Yes, actually; is it normal for Detective Armstrong's bandages to be changed so frequently?"

"What do you mean, sir?"

"Well, she just got her bandages changed a couple of hours ago, and now she's getting them changed again." The nurse stood up slowly as she looked down the hall.

"There's no nurse in her room sir, they're all in other patients rooms." Ice cold dread ran down Don's back as he tuned to look down the hallway.

"If the person with her isn't a nurse…" Don didn't finish his sentence as he broke into a run; he was ten feet from her door and her parents when a scream pealed out through the hallway.

* * *

Elizabeth had been dreaming. She was back at the Policeman's Ball and that sleaze ball Detective Jenkins had been hitting on her, when _he_ had appeared to the rescue. He'd worn a tux and his cummerbund had been a blue so beautiful it could only be rivaled by his eyes. He'd told Jenkins off and had promptly swept her off her feet into a dance. He'd led her around the ballroom floor, and she'd felt like a Disney princess who'd finally found her Prince Charming. The song had ended and she'd been breathless when he'd leaned in to kiss her. And then she felt pain in her lip and she'd woken up. 

Of course her lip hurt, Ackerson had split her lip open during his many blows to her face. Wincing at the pain, Elizabeth struggled to open her eyes. The swelling was so bad, she could barely tolerate the pain of opening them, but she forced them open, because she'd been _sure_ that someone had kissed her. It hadn't just been her dream, she _knew _it. But when she finally was able to see, terror filled her every muscle at the sight of William Ackerson leaning over her.

He was wearing a nurse's outfit, and had a cart with bandaging sitting next to him. He smirked evilly at her as he used a roll of bandages to bind her hands to the bed. Elizabeth had been weak when she'd arrived at the hospital, and with all the people visiting her, she hadn't been able to recover much of her energy. Even so, adrenaline rushed through her and enabled her to fight, but with her injuries along with her awkward position, the adrenaline wasn't sufficient to free her from Ackerson.

Elizabeth tried to scream, but her voice, still weak, had gone hoarse from her talk with Mac and lack of water. She could barely get a sound out. Panicking, she clawed fiercely at his face, but he laughed and easily dodged her nails.

"I told you I'd come back for you, my sweet. I can take you in a bed now and with your parent's right outside. Ohhh, I feel so _naughty_, like a schoolboy. I've had to wait to see you for _hours_, because that stupid detective kept skulking around your door, glaring at anyone who came too close to you. But Daddy Dearest sent him for some food. Tsk, tsk, too bad for detective boy, he won't get a chance to have a piece of you. That is, unless he doesn't mind doing a corpse." Ackerson grinned at her as he unzipped his pants.

Realizing that if something didn't happen in the next thirty seconds, she was done for, Elizabeth mustered up every bit of energy she had, and ignoring the burning in her throat, she screamed.

* * *

Gesturing for the Armstrong's to stay back; Don pulled his gun from the holster, and without hesitation, kicked in the door. Elizabeth was still in her bed, but her hospital gown had been pulled up and her hands were bound. The man, Ackerson, had quickly grabbed a scalpel from his tray of supplies and held it to Elizabeth's throat. 

"Well, well. Detective boy is back. I was hoping you'd have a big appetite and I'd get some alone time with Elizabeth here. I see that's not to be. Now if you cooperate, I won't have to kill her, but if you disobey, I'm afraid, Elizabeth will have to die. Now put down your gun, detective." Don didn't move, just stared down at Ackerson. The guy had come to finish her off; there was no way Don was letting him go.

"You're lying. I know it, she knows it, and you know it. You'll be lucky to make it out of this hospital alive. Hell, if you made it past that door I'd be amazed. Every NYPD cop in the city is out for you. No reason to hurt her. It won't gain you anything. Put the knife down, and I _might _decide not to shoot you."

"Might?" Ackerson asked curiously.

"You hurt her. You beat her and you raped her, and for that I'd bash your teeth in with my bare hands if I could. But unfortunately, that's not allowed. But I could always shoot you and say you came at me. It just depends on how fast you get that knife away from her throat." Ackerson smiled and looked between Elizabeth and Don.

"Ah, Detective watchdog likes you, Elizabeth, darling. How sweet. Perhaps I should cut my losses and give up." Slowly moving his hands, to hold them up in surrender, he made to drop the knife. Still watching him, Don moved slowly closer, so he could cuff him. Suddenly Ackerson dove for the cart and Don saw the flash of light against a gun muzzle. Not even stopping to consider alternatives, Don squeezed off three rounds into Ackerson's chest.

His lunge for the medical cart had taken him from Elizabeth's side and had cleared Don's line of fire. His shots hit Ackerson, who went down without raising the gun, and he laid still. Not taking any chances, Don, kicked the gun away from Ackerson's still fingers, and then reached down and untied Elizabeth's hands. He scooped her into his arms, and cradling her to his chest, carried her from the room.

Elizabeth was still shaking when Don suddenly released her hands and picked her up. She wasn't a small woman, but just like when he'd found her this morning, it hadn't mattered. He held her close as he stepped over Ackerson's dead body. Tears ran down her cheeks as she thought of what could have happened. Not, not could; would have happened if Don hadn't saved her. Weakly she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his neck. He called something out—she was still too stunned to hear what it was—and then kicked the door open again.

Her parents rushed at her, so did the nurses and doctors standing beside them. NYPD officers swarmed the room, no doubt to be sure of Ackerson's condition. People were talking to her, to Don. He kept refusing to put her down, said they needed a safe place for her to stay. People rushed off to find her a room. Her parents were talking with the doctors now. They kept looking over at her, but she didn't care. Don stroked her hair and whispered in her ear.

"He's gone. He won't ever hurt you again. I'll be here to protect you, I promise. You can rest now." With genuine relief, she felt herself drift back to sleep, back into her dream.

They were dancing, and suddenly she could make out the words.

"_I'll be your crying shoulder_

_I'll be love's suicide_

_I'll be better when I'm older_

_I'll be the greatest man of your life"_

* * *

A/N: Yay a new chapter. For those of you who reviewed, I love you. For the few of you who complained about the delay. Sorry. You try moving to a new country and having your computer cable short out. I've been without a computer for two weeks, so sorry if this came out later than you would have liked. Anyways, now that I got my little bit of bitchiness out… 

This is NOT the last chapter, if you were worried about that. You probably weren't but, anyways, I digress. Now that I have a computer again, I should have the next chapter up quickly again, since I know what's going to happen already. I just need to type it up.

For those of you who may comment of the lack of the DL I promised in the last chapter's AN, sorry, I just couldn't fit it into this chapter, and believe me I tried, but I figured that since this is the longest chapter for the story so far, enough is enough. The next chapter should feature a lot of sap, both DL and FlackElizabeth.

Again, reviews are always appreciated; I like to hear feedback of all kinds, just not complaints about updating. Everyone has a life, and sometimes it gets in the way, that's all.

Oh and the song is "I'll Be" by Edwin McCain


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